


Awakenings

by Ghostwriter (Zoya_Zalan)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen, Introspection, flattery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya_Zalan/pseuds/Ghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Paris gives Captain Janeway a little something to think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Paramount owns all things Voyager; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Many thanks to Carol for the beta help!
> 
> Written December 1999.

~ * ~ * ~

Ensign Tom Paris sat down heavily in one of the chairs on board the Delta Flyer and stared blankly at the data PADD in front of him. He was very tired, to the point where his vision was blurring whenever he tried to focus on anything. Thankfully, the shuttle was safely on board _Voyager_ and not being flown by the overtired pilot.

After a few moments of blinking, Paris gave up trying to read through his report. Reaching up, he tapped his combadge. "Paris to Janeway."

"Janeway here." Her voice was crisp and filled with energy.

"The modifications have been completed, Captain. I just finished the systems analysis; everything's up to speed."

"Good work, Mr. Paris. I'd like to review the data before our staff meeting tomorrow morning. Can you drop it by my quarters?"

"Yes, ma'am. On my way."

Paris closed his eyes and rubbed them furiously. He'd been at this project since 0700 this morning and it was now nearly midnight. How the captain could sound so wide awake at this hour was beyond him. Taking a deep breath, Paris got up and began deactivating the shuttle's systems.

Ten minutes later, he was standing outside the captain's door signaling for entry. He stepped forward as soon as it opened, taking in his surroundings with a keen eye. This was the first time he'd ever set foot in Janeway's private space. He found the main area to be surprisingly efficient considering it was part of their commanding officer’s quarters. The room was slightly larger than most crew quarters on board, but the furnishings were hardly superior. The whole place exuded standard regulation.

_Typical_ , Paris thought wryly.

His eyes finally centered on the form of his commanding officer sitting on the sofa, and for the first time in his life, Tom Paris found himself thoroughly captivated. Janeway was dressed in a white T-shirt with loose-fitting, navy blue sweat bottoms. Her short hair had been haphazardly pulled back into a pony-tail, but a few locks of the golden brown had escaped confinement and were hanging defiantly along the side of her face.

He'd seen her out of uniform before, of course... the whole crew had at one time or another, but this was different. Even when she was present at a shipboard celebration or off-duty gathering of some kind she was still the captain, every piece of clothing in order, every strand of hair in place. Here, now, in the privacy of her quarters, Voyager's commanding officer seemed more like an ordinary woman enjoying a relaxing evening rather than the imposing leader Paris knew her to be. It was a startling revelation.

Janeway looked up from the PADD she'd been studying and smiled at the young pilot. "Mr. Paris," she acknowledged as she stood up. "Thank you for bringing this by."

Paris gazed steadily at her. He'd been caught slightly off-guard, but years of practice had made him a master at maintaining his composure. He simply returned her smile in full and handed over his report. "You're welcome, Captain."

Janeway was barefoot, he noticed. Without her standard military heels, she barely came to his shoulders. Her toenails were shining with clear nail polish, an observation Paris found absolutely fascinating. He continued to watch her as she took the report from him and began reading, her face hardening into a mask of intense concentration. He realized with a start that he'd never thought of Kathryn Janeway as a woman before, at least not in the same sense that he did every other female on board _Voyager_. She was the captain. Period. Being the captain placed her in an entirely different category, one she occupied all by herself. But now, as he stared at her with newly opened eyes, every feminine feature that had escaped his attention before now stood out in glorious detail, filling him with absolute wonder. How could he possibly have missed such a profound observation?

And that wasn't all. This tiny woman standing before him had the responsibility of 142 crew members on her shoulders, not to mention daily command decisions made without any kind of support from Starfleet. She was the leader, guardian, and protector of an entire isolated community, and she accomplished each of those commitments alone. The inner strength required for such a feat must be enormous.

Paris stood transfixed, his mind wandering into a thousand uncharted areas of speculation. Did she have someone to open up to when things got tough? Did she turn to Chakotay? On a professional level, maybe, but what about personal? Who gave her a hug when she needed one? Paris had been running a betting pool on the two commanding officers for years, but was there really any foundation there? The tiny, nearly invisible worry lines he noticed on Janeway's face seemed to indicate otherwise. She was his father's protégé, after all, and if there was one thing Owen Paris was well known for, it was protocol, protocol, protocol... something that would have been drilled into Kathryn Janeway until she could recite the regulations backwards in her sleep. 

Protocol...

What did protocol offer a starship captain stranded so far from home?

Paris forced a lump from his throat as Janeway suddenly looked back up at him, her eyes registering a curious mixture of confusion and concern. He couldn't even imagine the burden she must carry with her every moment of every day.

"Tom?" she asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"

Paris smiled despite the sadness he felt inside. Her eyes looked incredibly blue in the lighting of her quarters, prompting him to realize once more that his commanding officer was, indeed, a beautiful woman, one that had been forced into circumstances that were less than adequate for any human being. Her strength of character and her compassion were what had allowed her to triumph under such unfavorable conditions, and Paris had no doubt that she would continue to do so.

"You know that uniform you wear every day?" he began on a whim, allowing his instincts to take over completely. He may not be able to change their current predicament, but he could certainly try to offer a bit of a distraction. One of Janeway's eyebrows arched imperceptibly as she waited for him to finish his thought, a touch of amusement sparkling in her eyes. It was almost as though she were daring him to say something out of line.

"You know that little bit of make-up you put on?" Paris continued, completely unconcerned with the repercussions of his words. "Or those efficient outfits you wear during off-duty occasions... the ones that flatter without being overtly feminine? All the gestures, the professional conduct... all the lengths you go to to present yourself to this crew as 'just the captain' instead of the living, breathing, extraordinary woman you really are?" He paused for effect, noting with satisfaction that Janeway now looked openly amazed by his admission. Leaning forward slightly for effect, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he finished, "It's not working." Then, with a genuine, heartfelt smile, Tom Paris turned and left, leaving a very stunned commanding officer behind. 

Janeway stared at the closed door, a blush spreading slowly but thoroughly across her face. Reaching up, she absently rubbed the skin at her neckline. As the captain, there were any number of things she could have done in response to such a blatant act of disrespect by a junior officer. Instead, she allowed the corner of her mouth to tug upward into a soft smile, her eyes moving self-consciously around the room while she pondered the kindness and audacity of _Voyager's_ pilot.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Janeway turned and made her way back to the sofa. "That's it," she chuckled softly, nestling herself comfortably against the pillows for yet another round of reviewing reports. "No more leola root in the food..."

~ * ~ finis ~ * ~


End file.
